


They Were Bappy

by floweringlight



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: #CysitheaWeek2020, Awkward Boners, Awkward First Times, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Happy Ending, My First Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweringlight/pseuds/floweringlight
Summary: Set after their final support conversation, Cyril and Lysithea begin the awkward mating dance of two people in love and shy about expressing their feelings. With some help from Big Sis Hilda, Dorothea, and Shamir, the two open up to each other and do some non-book learning.CW flashbacks to trauma relating to Lysithea's past
Relationships: Cyril & Lysithea von Ordelia, Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	1. First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> The first time I saw their paired ending, I interpreted it positively, believing that Lysithea ended up living far longer than she had expected to. Once I realized it was a tragic ending, however, I was pretty put out. Those two adorable innocents deserved a lifetime of happiness, not just a few years. So that's what I'm giving them.

Cyril helped Lysithea tidy up the library. He was going to do it anyway, but figured it would go faster with her help. She was more familiar with the library's organization, and she could help him with unfamiliar words. Hilda had left a particularly large and overdue stack of books on one of the tables to be put away.

"Sorry!" she apologized, batting her eyelashes. "I kept meaning to bring these back earlier."

"We know," Lysithea replied, rolling her eyes.

"Couldn't find anyone to take 'em back for ya, huh?" Cyril teased.

Hilda sputtered, "Of, of course not! I've been busy, actually."

"All right," Cyril said, shrugging. "Thanks for bringin' them back." He picked up one of the stacks of books and started organizing them.

"Don't you want to know why I've been busy?" Hilda demanded, pouting.

Still looking down at the books, Cyril replied, "Not really. Me 'n' Lysithea have a lot of work to do, so you can tell us later."

"Well I never," Hilda huffed, stomping out of the library.

Lysithea laughed. "Cyril!"

He looked up at her, curious. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"You're so oblivious sometimes. She was flirting with you," Lysithea said, picking up a few books and shelving them.

"Hilda flirts with everybody," Cyril replied, shrugging. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Because she likes you?" Lysithea said, one hand on her hip as she shook her head at his cluelessness.

Cyril chuckled. "Nah. Ain't nobody likes me that way," he muttered.

Lysithea's sharp ears heard his depreciating comment. "Th-that's not true," she stammered. "There are lots of things to like about you!" She struggled with the last book, grunting with effort. 

At her emphatic rebuttal, Cyril snapped his head in her direction and saw Lysithea standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top shelf. "Here, let me help," he said, standing behind her and taking the book from her hands. Though he wasn't much taller than her, he had no trouble sliding the book into place.

Lysithea turned around, flustered by his proximity. "Um, thanks. I probably could have reached it though."

Cyril slowly lowered his arm, not wanting to accidentally bump Lysithea, and gently brushed her hair back from her face. "You, uh, had some hair in the way," he said softly.

She blushed. "Th-thanks."

"Hey, Lysithea," he began, leaning forward. 

"Yes, Cyril?" she breathed, heart pounding.

"Do you like me?"

Crimson covered her cheeks as she hid her face. "You, you can't just ask a person that!"

He pulled her fingers down from her eyes and ducked his head down to see her expression.

"Please, Lysithea? You said there were lots of things to like about me. Does that mean you like me?"

"Of course I do, stupid!" she mumbled. "You're nice, and strong, and really sweet. How can I not like you?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then, can I kiss you?" he asked timidly. "Only if you want."

Eyes wide, Lysithea tilted her head up. "Okay," she squeaked.

Slowly Cyril raised one hand to her face and cupped her cheek. "I've never done this before," he croaked nervously. 

Shakily, Lysithea breathed in and out. "Me either." She stepped closer to him, one hand clutching his bicep for support. Cyril brought his face closer, trying to angle his mouth just right.

The two were so focused on each other, they didn't hear or see Claude come in.

"Hey Lysithea, have you seen..." Claude began, face sliding into a smirk when he realized his presence had gone unnoticed. He popped his head right next to theirs and loudly said, "So this is what you've been up to!"

Startled, the two of them yelled, knocked their heads together, and sprang backwards. 

"What do you want Claude?" Lysithea grumbled, rubbing her forehead. Cyril glared at the older man.

"I just wanted to know if you'd seen Hilda."

"Yes," Lysithea growled. "She just left a few minutes ago. And so should you. Leave, I mean."

"Thanks!" Claude said, clapping his hands on their shoulders. "I'll just be on my way then."

"Good," Cyril said, crossing his arms.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Claude teased, winking at them. "Or rather, please do."

"Claude!" Lysithea yelled, shaking her fist at his retreating form. 

Cyril grabbed her other arm and held her back. "You know he thinks it's fun to tease you, right?"

Lysithea scowled, wrinkling her nose at Cyril. "I know."

"Still, he doesn't have to be such an ass about it."

"Of course he does. It's what makes Claude Claude."

Realizing he still held her wrist, Cyril released Lysithea, blushing. She, in return, grabbed his hand. "You didn't have to stop."

Nervously, Cyril clutched her hand and stepped closer. "Do, do you want to try again?"

Lysithea flushed, nodding. "But maybe we should try somewhere more private. So no one else interrupts."

"Good idea. Come with me." Cyril pulled Lysithea by the hand, leading her to the third floor and opened the doors to the Star Terrace.

"Won't people see?" Lysithea hissed.

"Nah. The Sky Watch is switching shifts right now. We got some time."

"Okay."

"So," Cyril began, licking his dry lips nervously, "how exactly do we do this?"

"I don't really know. Books make it seem so...effortless."

"I guess we won't know 'til we try, huh?"

"Yeah."

Once again, Cyril placed his hand on Lysithea's cheek, the other hand curving around her back, drawing her closer. Lysithea put both hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up on her toes to reach his mouth better. Their mouths met with a clack.

"Ow," Lysithea said, hand on her teeth.

"I'm sorry!" Cyril exclaimed, covering his mouth.

"It's okay. We'll just try again and be more careful of teeth."

"Right."

Their second attempt was a bit wet. "I don't think your mouth is quite supposed to cover mine like that," Lysithea commented.

"That didn't feel right," Cyril agreed.

"Third time's the charm?"

"Sure."

They kissed again.

"That was...better."

"Yeah. Again?"

"Again."

Cyril moved his hand from Lysithea's face and cupped the base of her head, supporting her as he drew his mouth to hers. The softness of her lips on his elicited a sigh. "Much better," Lysithea breathed when they parted.

"One more time?" Cyril asked bashfully.

"Yes."


	2. Learning to Love Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyril and Lysithea do some studying of a more physical nature. (Some sexual content ahead)

A month later, Cyril and Lysithea were once again in the library, ostensibly studying for their Mastery exams. The occasional thud of the bookshelves, however, betrayed them. "Cy-cyril," Lysithea panted, hair mussed and face flushed from heavy kissing. "This isn't exactly a comfortable position." She shifted on the shelf she was currently sitting on, leaning forward into his arms while he stood between her legs, supporting most of her weight. Books lay scattered on the floor from where they had been knocked off the shelves in the two's passionate embrace.

"This was your idea," he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again.

"A-admittedly, it held a certain appeal," she said, gasping as he deftly slid his tongue into her mouth.

He pulled back, grinning. "But?"

"But my back hurts because another shelf is digging into it. Maybe we should," he interrupted her train of thought by placing another kiss on her mouth. "Um."

"Would you like me to pick you up?" Cyril asked, lightly kissing her. 

"You're distracting me," she replied.

"Maybe I can distract you so you don't feel that shelf in your back," Cyril murmured in her ear, leaning into her.

"It's worth a try," Lysithea teased, kissing him on the nose. "How would you do that?"

"You could wrap your legs around my waist and I could hold you up," he said, kissing her back on the nose.

"But?"

"But it would mean my hands would be lower than they've ever been. Would you, would you be okay with that?"

"Are you asking if you can touch my ass?"

Red dusted Cyril's cheeks. "Lysithea!" She shrugged unapologetically. She knew Cyril was easily flustered by her use of language and it amused her to occasionally throw him off by cursing.

"Well are you?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Can I put my hands there?"

"Of course you can, silly. I believe that's what people usually do when they make out."

"But we've never touched each other anywhere before. I wanted make sure it was okay."

"Please do. In fact," she said, grabbing one of his hands and sliding it towards her breast, "you can touch me here, too."

"Ly-lysithea, I don't..." he stammered, crimson.

"What's wrong?" Lysithea stopped guiding his hand. "Don't you want to?"

"Of course! But I don't know if I can..."

She cocked her head to the side, confused. "I don't understand."

"It's embarrassing," Cyril said, burying his face in her neck. "I don't want to explain."

"Then you don't have to."

He sighed. "I kinda do." Cyril looked into Lysithea's eyes and quickly said, "I really really really want to touch you. So much. So much I feel like I'll explode." He glanced down, hoping she'd understand without him going into detail. 

"What do you-oh. Oh!" She blushed and looked away. "I see. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Uh..." Both of them blushed, realizing the implications of her innocent question. "No. Thanks for asking."

"Right. Maybe we should actually go study now."

"Yeah. Th-that sounds good." Cyril lifted  Lysithea down from the shelf and helped her pick up the scattered books. Soon they were sitting at a table, heads bent over their books. Cyril had one arm wrapped around her waist and Lysithea leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Sorry about earlier," he apologized.

"You don't have to be sorry," she replied. "It's a perfectly natural bodily function, albeit a somewhat inconvenient one."

He kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for understanding."

She kissed him back. "I'm only sorry we had to stop."

"I think I've calmed down enough that we could try again if you wanted."

Lysithea hummed, pretending to think it over. "I could use a refresher in anatomy," she teased.

"Aren't I the one studying anatomy today?"

"It's a mutual exploration," Lysithea stated. She stood up and resettled herself facing him on his lap. She lowered her voice and purred into his ear, "You're not the only one who wants to move their hands lower."

Cyril swallowed hard, aroused once again. Lysithea pounced, fiercely kissing him, hands wrapped in his hair. He held her tightly, lost in her passionate kissing. She pulled away only to pant, "Please, Cyril, I want you to touch me." He groaned as she guided his hands, one to her breast and another to her butt.

As he touched her, he felt his body contract. "Lysithea, I'm going to!" He buried his face in her neck as his body released the tension that had built up all afternoon.

Lysithea felt him shaking, and pulled back, concerned. "Are you okay?"

He shuddered, pleasure coursing through him. "Ye-yeah. I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?" She lifted his face to meet hers and was confused at the shame she saw.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't," he stammered, trying to look away.

"Was that?" He nodded. "Oh."

"I, uh, I gotta go," he said, hurriedly standing up. He made sure she was gently deposited on the floor before fleeing.

Nonplussed, Lysithea sat on the floor. "Well, fuck," she muttered.

*

A week later, Hilda cornered  Lysithea after class. “Dish,” she commanded. 

Lysithea feigned ignorance. “About what?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You and Cyril have been lovey-dovey all month but suddenly he can’t stand to be in the same place as you. What happened?”

“It’s not my place to say,”  Lysithea replied. “I’m sure we’ll make up once he stops being embarrassed.”

Hilda gasped dramatically, eyes wide and hands covering her mouth. “ Oh my goddess! Did he have trouble performing?”

Beet red,  Lysithea shoved Hilda back. “ Ew , no. We haven’t-not that it’s any of your business!”

“Oh! I see. Do you want me to ask Claude to talk to him?”

“Absolutely not. Claude will only tease him and make it worse.”

Hilda pursed her lips, thinking. “You’re probably right. But my romantic heart can’t stand seeing two star-crossed lovers separated by a simple misunderstanding! Can I help?”

“It’s not a misunderstanding. I just have to give him space.”

“If you say so. But if you need anything, and I mean anything, you can talk to me, Manuela, or Dorothea. We’ll hook you up.”

“No offense to Professor Manuela, but I’d only talk to her about something private if I didn’t care that the whole campus knew about it later.”

Hilda nodded in agreement. “Even when she’s  sober she isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

“And anything I told you would later be repeated to Claude. Then he’d go and tease Cyril about it.”

A rueful expression crossed Hilda’s face and she reluctantly agreed. “Then talk to Dorothea. She’ll help.”

“I’ll think about it. Can I go now? Some of us do have actual studying to do.”

“Fine, fine! I hope you two work it out soon.”

“Me too,”  Lysithea whispered, leaving the classroom. 

*

Busy in his work, Cyril didn’t notice Shamir coming up behind him. 

“So,” the stoic sniper stated, “I hear you and  Lysithea are having problems.”

Startled, Cyril dropped the load of hay he was carrying. “Shamir!” He quickly turned around and crossed his arms. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I have eyes, Cyril. And they’ve noticed you have been avoiding her. Did something happen?”

“I don’t  wanna talk about it,” he told her awkwardly.

“Then talk to her,” Shamir said. “A good relationship is full of communication.”

“I know,” Cyril replied, exasperated. “But how am I supposed to stop being embarrassed every time I-” realizing he was about to reveal his shame stopped his lips. 

“Look, if it’s a performance issue, there are plenty of herbs that-”

“Why would you assume  that?!” Cyril yelled, flushing deeply. 

“There are only two reasons I can think of that would cause a virgin like you to be embarrassed. One is under-performance. The other is-”

“Thanks Shamir, but you’ve already given me the sex talk. I really don’t need to hear it again.”

“Look, it’s perfectly normal to have little to no control the first few times you’re with someone. Don’t let it get to you.”

Cyril covered his face self-consciously. “Is there anything I can do? I don’t wanna keep changing my pants,” Cyril mumbled. 

“If it bothers you that much, prime your pump before you see her and you should have fewer problems. Now go talk to her. You’re too distracted. And I’d hate to see my best apprentice killed.”

A myriad of emotions flickered across his face. “ Sh-shamir !” 

Smirking, the knight shooed him off, shaking her head. “Was I ever that innocent?” she wondered.

*

That evening, Cyril worked up his nerve to talk to  Lysithea . He paced in front of her door for what felt like hours before he finally knocked. 

“ Lysithea ? Can, can we talk?” he stammered, running his hand through his hair. He tried not to panic waiting for a response. He heard her soft footsteps come to the door and Cyril looked up expectantly. The door opened and he saw  Lysithea for the first time in a week. She was wearing purple loungewear and had her hair pulled back in a loose braid. 

“Oh, uh, I can come back,” he said, turning to leave. 

“Don’t,”  Lysithea said, her hand grabbing his wrist. “Please. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“You want to come in?” she invited nervously. 

He nodded. She shut the door behind him and sat down on her bed, patting the space beside her. “You’re not mad at me?” he asked, sitting down. 

“Of course not! Did I upset you?”

“You could never,” he swore fervently. She smiled brightly at him. Oh, how he had missed that smile! He grinned back, his nose wrinkling a little. 

“Your nose is so cute,”  Lysithea said. 

“Yours is cuter.”

“Stop it!”  Lysithea giggled, swatting lightly at his shoulder. 

“But it’s true!”

Lysithea leaned into him, holding his hand. “I really missed you.”

“Me too.”

“Then why did you stay away?”

“I was afraid. I didn’t want you to think I was gross. And I was too ashamed to face you after what I did.”

“Cyril,”  Lysithea said, hugging him tightly. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’m only annoyed that you left me there after kissing me so thoroughly.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I had to change my pants.”

“We’ll have to make sure to keep a spare nearby next time, won’t we?” she teased. 

He shrugged. “Hope there isn’t a next time. At least, not by myself.”

“Cy- cyril !”  Lysithea squealed, burying her face in his chest. 

“Though,” he mused, “I think I  wanna see you in white first before we try together.”

Lysithea gasped, looking up at him. “Was that a proposal? Are you proposing?”

“What? No! At least,” he amended, “not yet. I’m just saying that the only way I’d probably be allowed to do that with you is if we were married. Because you’re a noble. And I’m not.”

“I don’t care about that. I just want you,” she declared. 

“Y-yeah?” he asked,  voice cracking.

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“If you don’t, I’ll be very annoyed.”

Cyril leaned into her, gently covering her mouth with his. He deepened the kiss, holding her tightly, thrilled when she gasped.  Lysithea slowly leaned back onto the bed and he followed her, chasing her mouth and intertwining her tongue with his. She moaned as he pressed into her. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” she commanded. “Just touch me.” Cyril obeyed, sliding his hands over her breasts and down her back, cupping her butt. With each touch, she moaned and pressed into him harder. 

“ Lysithea ,” he panted. “We have to slow down a little.”

“Okay,” she replied, disappointment tinging her voice. 

“It’s because I didn’t bring anything with  me, that’s all,” he told her. “And I don’t want us to do anything without being prepared.”

“I’m not quite ready for anything past making out and touching,” she told him. 

“Good,” he said. “Me either.” 

They fell back into each other, exploring one another’s bodies. Cyril groaned when her hands lightly brushed over his pants. “Maybe don’t touch me there,” he said. “Only because I won’t last if you do.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “But I’ll stop if you want.”

“Next time,” he promised. “When I have a change of clothes ready.”

“It’s a deal,” she breathed, hands sliding under his shirt. She moaned. “Cyril, you’re so hard!”

He chuckled. “That’s kind of what caused our problem in the first place,” he teased. 

She blushed. “I didn’t mean it that way! Your abs, Cyril. They’re really defined!”

“I do a lot of heavy lifting,” he reminded her. 

“And I am the only one who is allowed to see what’s under your shirt. Got it?”

“Are you jealous?” he teased. 

“Only if you’re planning on displaying your muscles to everyone.”

“Nah. Just you,” he promised, kissing her mouth and trailing down her neck to her collarbone. She moaned again. “Since your hands are under my shirt, can I put mine under yours?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said, moaning as he began to touch under the hem of her shirt. “I mean, no,” she said, sitting up suddenly. 

Cyril withdrew his hands, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not you, I promise. It’s me. I. ..I’m not ready yet.”

“Okay. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks. Sorry. I do want that. But not yet. I...”

“You don’t have to explain,” Cyril told her. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

“All right,” she said, kissing him. “Thank you.”  Lysithea grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back towards her. “I’ve had a whole week without you, and I’m not ready to stop kissing you yet.”

He grinned and went back for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst to follow in the next chapter. Sorry! And yes, she doesn't want him to touch her under her clothes because of her scars. And I'm really nervous about this fic because I've never written smut before and I don't really plan to in the future, but I think it's important to explore how these two virgins grow in their relationship physically as well as emotionally.


	3. Learning to Love Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A serious conversation is had (with help from Dorothea)

Two days later,  Lysithea invited Dorothea to tea. “Why, Sithee, this is a surprise,” Dorothea said, accepting the invitation. “I’d have thought you’d be hosting Cyril instead of me.”

“Normally I would, but I need some advice from a more experienced person. And I trust you to be discreet about it.”

Dorothea leaned forward eagerly. “I’m all ears.”

“Not here,”  Lysithea said, looking around anxiously. “At tea time.”

“Of course. I will meet you in the gardens later this afternoon.”

“Perfect. Any tea and snack preferences?”

“I’m partial to sweet teas,” the songstress replied. “And a nice sorbet would do wonders in this weather.”

“I agree. It is rather warm today. I’ll gather supplies and see you in a while.”

“I look forward to it,” Dorothea told her. 

*

Lysithea poured the tea once it had finished steeping. “It’s  Albinean Berry,” she told Dorothea. “I figured it would pair nicely with the peach sorbet.”

“Even if it doesn’t, I’m partial to both,” Dorothea informed her. “ However did you guess?”

“I asked the Professor, of course.”

The songstress laughed, the sound carrying like tinkling chimes. “Of course.” Dorothea leaned forward on the table, supporting her face in her hand. “Now what brings you to me for advice? I’d have thought you would be talking to Hilda about your romantic adventures.”

Lysithea blushed. “Hilda’s like a big sister to me, of course, and like a big sister, she’s prone to teasing.”

“I see.” Dorothea winked at the younger woman. “How can I help you?”

“Do you know about my Crests?” Lysithea asked bluntly.

“I’ve heard rumors, of course, but I really don’t care about Crests so I don’t pay much attention. What about your Crests?”

“I wasn’t born with them. They’re killing me. And I haven’t told Cyril yet.”

Dorothea gasped softly. “You need to tell him.”

“I will. I want to tell him before he sees my scars. Which is why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m confused,” Dorothea said. “What  do your Crests have to do with me?”

Lysithea fidgeted, twisting the tablecloth in her hands. “Do...do you think he’ll think I’m ugly because of my scars?”

“Oh, honey!” Dorothea hurried to the other side of the table, hugging  Lysithea . “I’m sure he won’t think that at all. If anything, he’ll be angry at the people who gave them to you.”

“You haven’t seen them,”  Lysithea protested. “They’re pretty bad.”

“I grew up on the streets,  Sithee . Not much shocks me anymore. Why don’t you show me? After we finish our tea.”

“All right.” 

“ So tell me, is he a good kisser?” Dorothea pried. 

“I wouldn’t know,”  Lysithea admitted. “He was my first. And I was his.”

Dorothea placed her hand on her chest. “How sweet! I’m jealous. You two are so adorable together.”

“Thank you.”

Chatting, Lysithea and Dorothea finished their tea at a leisurely rate before standing up and going to Lysithea’s room. 

“Now show me these horrible scars,” Dorothea said, sitting on the edge of  Lysithea’s bed.  Lysithea lifted her dress over her head and wriggled out of the fabric. “Goddess!” Dorothea gasped, horrified. “I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

Lysithea started to cry. “He’ll hate them,” she sobbed. 

“Oh no, honey!” Dorothea gathered  Lysithea in her arms and held her. “He loves you. He won’t hate them. But you do need to tell him about them so he doesn’t have a shock.”

“Are you sure?”  Lysithea sniffled. “Because I think they’re ugly.”

“The people who did that to you are evil. But it doesn’t make you ugly. It’s a mark of survival.”

Lysithea cried harder. “But I won’t survive. I don’t have many years left. And if he loves me, I’ll break his heart.”

“I can’t promise you’ll live a long life, but I can tell you that there is no way any of us will let you die without trying to remove these Crests. Does anyone else know about this?”

“The Professor. And Hanneman,”  Lysithea sniffed. “Maybe Linhardt.”

“Then I’m sure they’re trying to find a solution already,” Dorothea soothed, rubbing circles on  Lysithea’s back. 

“I doubt it. They’re so busy with this war.”

“It’s almost over. And then we will all do our part to help you. But you can’t not tell Cyril.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” Lysithea promised. 

“I’ll hold you to that,  Sithee . And don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll surprise you. He’s such a sweetheart. I can’t imagine he’ll react in any way other than compassion and understanding.”

“Thank you, Dorothea,”  Lysithea said, wiping her tears with the palm of her hand. She put her dress back on, smoothing out the wrinkles.

“You’re welcome, honey. Is there anything else you need from me?” she asked. 

“Can you tell me about sex?”

“What, specifically, about sex do you want to know?” Dorothea asked, raising her eyebrow. “I need to know what I’m working with here.”

“I’ve read instructional manuals,”  Lysithea began. 

“Oh dear.”

“And I know it makes babies,” she said. “Though, maybe not for me,” she added quietly.

Dorothea pretended not to hear the last part. “But you don’t know the practical side of it?”

“Not really, no.”

“The good news is that you probably know more than most of the girls here. The bad news is that you still need to learn about contraceptives.” 

“I figured as much,” Lysithea said glumly. 

“The exciting news is I can show you how to feel good,” Dorothea added wickedly, shaking her hips suggestively. 

“Dorothea!”  Lysithea exclaimed, embarrassed. 

“You asked.”

“So I did.”

The two women spent the next hour discussing foreplay, sex positions, and various methods of preventing unwanted pregnancy. “And if there are herbs to prevent men from procreating, you might want to ask Claude or Shamir. They’re more knowledgeable about plants outside of Fodlan than I.”

“I could never ask Claude,”  Lysithea stated, horrified.

Dorothea chuckled. “Maybe not. But he probably does know something I don’t in that regard.”

“I’ll keep it in mind should I need to know. I hope I don’t.”  Lysithea muttered. She looked down at the floor, saddened. “Besides, I might not need contraceptives. I don’t even know if I can have a baby, if I want one.”

“Don’t you have monthlies?” Dorothea asked. 

“Never,”  Lysithea said. “I don’t even know if I have a uterus. I don’t know what they did to me.”

“I can answer that question, if you’ll let me. And not every woman  bleeds , so that doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t conceive.”

“Really?”

“I, myself, know of at least two women who have had several children and never had monthlies.”

“Then, can you check?”

“Of course! It won’t take but a second.” Dorothea brought forth her healing light and placed her hands on either side of  Lysithea’s body. “Stay still for me, won’t you?” She hummed as she enveloped  Lysithea’s torso in light. After a minute, Dorothea stood up and dusted her hands off. “You appear to have all the usual organs,” she said. “As for whether or not you can conceive, that’s a question for Manuela.”

“I’m not ready for children yet, so I’ll stick to preventatives for now.”

“Good idea. Better safe than sorry.”

Lysithea hugged Dorothea fiercely. “Thank you so much, Thea. You’ve really helped a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” she said softly. “I’m glad.” 

As Dorothea left the room, she winked at  Lysithea and gently teased, “Go get ‘ em , tiger.”  Lysithea rolled her eyes, smiling slightly, and shut the door. She had a big day tomorrow.

*

She found Cyril in the greenhouse the next morning. “Hey, Cyril?”

“Yes, Lysithea?”

“Can we talk? It’s important.”

“Okay. Let me wash up and change and I’ll meet you in your room.”

“Thanks.”

He knew something was wrong. Her smile was dimmer than usual. He hurried to freshen up and raced to her door so she wouldn’t be kept waiting. “What’s up?” he asked once she opened her door. 

“It’s kind of a long story and it’s really hard for me to tell. So, just listen, okay?”

“Sure, Lysithea.”

He sat there for two hours as she paced the floor of her room, listening to her slowly and methodically explain the horrors of her past. She spoke mechanically, detaching herself from the trauma as best as she could. She even told him her fears of not being able to have children because of their experiments. “I’m telling you all this because you deserve to know. That I probably won’t live much longer. And I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt because of me.”

“Why are you telling me now?”

“Huh?”

“What brought this on?”

She stammered. “Remember the other day? When we were making out and I didn’t want you to put your hand under my shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s because I have scars. They’re hideous. And I didn’t want you to find them before I could tell you. I wasn’t expecting us to get this far in our relationship already. So I wasn’t ready to tell you then.”

“Okay.”

“Cyril, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you. Can,” she hesitated. “Can you promise you won’t hate me when you see them?”

He stood up rapidly and closed the distance between them with a hug. “I could never hate you,” he promised. “And I won’t let you die if I can help it. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I swear we’ll make them that did this to you pay.” He kissed her fiercely, holding her close to him. 

Lysithea cried, relieved. “Thank you. Thank you, Cyril.” She snuggled against his chest, not caring that she was dampening his shirt.

Suddenly, her earlier words hit him like a castle wall. “Did you say you love me?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, nodding in his chest. 

“ Lysithea ,” he said, slightly offended, “I was going to say it first.” 

She laughed. “That’s what upset you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Too bad, then. I already said it.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,  Lysithea .” She shivered at the timbre in his voice. It buzzed through her and made her want things she wasn’t sure she was ready for. 

“ Wanna make out?”

“Always.”

They kissed and pawed at each other eagerly, doing their best to distract each other from the heaviness of  Lysithea’s history. “Can I feel them?” Cyril whispered as they cuddled on her bed. “Your scars, I mean.”

“Okay,” she affirmed timidly.

“Tell me to stop if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

Tenderly, Cyril slid his hands under her clothes and gently felt his way up her body. She shivered and he stopped. “No, you can continue,” she said. “ It feels good.”

“Okay.” Cyril’s hands explored her soft skin, caressing each raise and pucker of her scars.  Lysithea let out a shaky moan. 

“Should I keep going?”

“Please. Your hands feel nice.”

Cyril made his way up until he felt the edge of her bra and stopped. “Want me to keep going?”

“Cyril, if you don’t keep touching me, I’m going to be very annoyed.”  Lysithea huffed, blushing lightly. “And if you keep touching me, I’ll even let you see under my dress.”

He grinned. “In that case...” He leaned forward and kissed her. His hands slipped under her bra and felt her small, firm breasts. Her nipples responded to his touch and began to harden.  Lysithea squirmed, gasping. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh, yes. And I definitely want your shirt off now.”

“My shirt? Wasn’t your dress supposed to come off?” he teased.

“I can’t be the only one in a state of undress!”

He laughed and pulled his shirt off, allowing her to admire his torso. She slid her dress off bashfully. “They really are ugly,” she said. 

Cyril stared deeply into her eyes and lowered his head to her abdomen, kissing the biggest scar gently. “You are beautiful,” he said. “And I never want you to feel otherwise.” He continued to kiss every mark on her body that he found, telling her over and over how beautiful she was. 

She smiled widely, tears falling from her eyes. He kissed her tears away and held her close. 

“I love you, Lysithea.”

“I love you too, Cyril.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immediately after her talk with Lysithea, Dorothea barges into Hanneman's office, startling him and Linhardt and demands that they help Lysithea. "I don't care that we're at war, that beautiful, talented woman is dying and needs your help, dammit!" And of course, she pushes everyone with any magical ability into helping them research and bullies Seteth into letting Flayn help. "If you church types weren't so damn secretive, we could have helped her a long time ago," she scolds.


	4. Shambhala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smut has arrived

Hubert’s revelation of the Slithers’ location surprised everyone but  Lysithea . After all, the way the mages managed to remain undetected as they came to and from  Ordelia meant they had a lair somewhere nearby. What did surprise her was how eager everyone was, in Caspar’s words, “To smash the bastards that hurt you and  Edelgard .”  Lysitha had long suspected that the former  Adrestian Emperor was also a victim of her abusers and wondered how different things would be if she had just confided in the Professor as  Lysithea had. 

Of course, no one was more eager than her to hunt the Agarthans down. She would make them pay for the longsuffering they had caused to her family and to countless others.  Lysithea hadn’t realized how obvious her desire for vengeance was until Cyril, later that night, came to her with an offering of cake.

“We’ll get ‘ em ,” he promised her. “Just be careful. For me.”

“I promise,”  Lysithea said, between bites of fluffy cake. “And we won’t let anything happen to Rhea.”

“She shouldn’t even be going.”

“I know. But I understand how she feels. They’re evil. What they did to me, to Edelgard, even to Rhea, they can’t be allowed to do it again.”

“Right,” he said, his face scrunched into a determined frown. “I’m going. Someone has to protect you and Rhea.”

“You’re sweet,”  Lysithea said, placing an icing-laden fork gently on his nose. She kissed the confection off, smiling gently.

“Just remember we’re all behind you, okay? Don’t be too focused on wiping them out. I want you to stay safe.”

“If you’re by my side, I know I will be.”

Cyril blushed and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Good night, Lysithea.”

“Aren’t you going to stay and share this with me?”

“Nah. I’m bringing Rhea her supper. But if you want, I can come back.”

“Please? I’m not sure I can fall asleep tonight.”

“Won’t Claude tease you if he finds out I’m spending the night?”

Lysithea smirked. “He wouldn’t dare. He knows that I saw him and the Professor making out before the battle of Enbarr.”

“They what?!”

“I’ll tell you all about it when you come back, okay?”

“You better.”

*

Cyril held  Lysithea , snuggling his chin into the base of her neck, listening as she read to him from her book. “I love hearing  ya read,” he murmured. “I hope that one day, when we’re married and have kids, that ya read to them too.”

Lysithea shut her book, twisting around to look at him. “You know that’s not possible.”

“Us being married? Or having kids?”

She blushed and stammered, “The second one.”

“We don’t know for sure that you can’t and ‘til we do, I’m gonna keep hoping. Besides, there are tons of kids without parents we can take in.”

“That’s true,” she conceded. “I’d like that.”

“I want to have a family with you, even if it’s just us.”

Lysithea threw her arms around his neck happily. “Cyril! I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her deeply, holding her tight. “I don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

“Me either.”

“So you  gotta live a long time with me, okay?”

“I can’t promise that.”

“I know.” They kissed again, hands beginning to explore each other’s bodies. “Hey, Lysithea?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we ever  gonna talk about what we’ll do once everything is over?”

“We should, shouldn’t we?” she sighed, reluctantly pushing herself back to sit up. 

Cyril held her hand as they sat in silence, thinking. He rubbed small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m probably  gonna stick around and try to be a knight here.”

“I have things to take care of back home before I make any other decisions.”

“Once  ya figure it out, come here and marry me,” Cyril invited. “I know everyone plans to stick around for a bit, to help the Professor adjust. And they’d do what they can to help you. I know it.”

“You know, most people propose a little differently,”  Lysithea teased.

Cyril shrugged. “I  ain’t got a ring yet, but I want  ya to know my intentions.”

“Haven’t I known your intentions for a while now?” she grinned, kissing his nose. 

“ Talkin ’ about it and actually  sayin ’ it  are two different things. You will marry me, won’t  ya ?”

Lysithea pretended to think about it. “Hmm. I suppose I’ll say yes.” She smiled. “And I don’t care about rings.”

Cyril lifted her hand and kissed her ring finger. “I do. How else will everyone know that we’re together?”

“I think people have figured it out by now,” she said dryly. “It’s not like we’re keeping it a secret.”

“I don’t like the way Linhardt looks at you,” Cyril muttered. 

“Like a specimen? Because that’s what I am to him. Everyone is a potential test subject to Linhardt, even his friends.”

“Does he usually look at his specimen’s ass? Because he was staring at yours yesterday.”

Pink,  Lysithea squealed. “He was not.”

“He was,” Cyril growled playfully. “Why wouldn’t he? It’s a nice one,” he teased, palming her butt and lightly squeezing. 

“You haven’t really even seen mine,”  Lysithea protested. “How do you know it’s all that nice?”

“We could find out  right now,” he said. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

“Cyril!”

He grinned at her. “Only if you want, of course.”

“I do want! But right  now we’re supposed to be having a serious conversation!”

Cyril shook his head. “You’re right, you’re right. A man can dream.”

“Besides, you’ll see me naked all the time once we’re married.”

“That’s true. And it will be wonderful each and every time.”

Lysithea blushed, looking away. 

“Hey,  c’mere ,” he said, tilting her chin back up to look at her face. “You’re beautiful and I love you. And I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

She kissed him, wrapping her hands in his tunic. Before long, outer layers had been shed and the two were snuggled under her blankets in their underthings. For now, they were content with caresses and light touches. The two fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms. 

*

The month flew by quickly and tomorrow they would be invading the Agarthans’ base.  Lysithea had asked Cyril to spend the night with her again. She wanted to be well-rested and knew Cyril would help her relax. 

He knocked on her door after hours, carrying with him his armor and a change of clothes for tomorrow’s battle. Right away, he could tell she was on edge. Still dressed in the day’s clothes,  Lysithea looked frazzled. “Have you eaten today?” he asked, laying his things down on her floor.

“I think so?”

“It’s a good thing I brought you a light snack then. Go ahead, eat,” he encouraged. 

She quickly devoured the mix of nuts and chocolate he had brought, licking the remnants off her fingers. “Thank you, Cyril. I feel better.”

“Good. You can’t forget to eat,  Lysithea . You won’t be good for tomorrow if you do.”

“You’re right.” She sighed and sat on the bed. “I’ve been distracted all day. I almost set Felix on fire in the training yard today. He was very unhappy and sent me to my room. He said I had no business being there if I wasn’t going to focus. He was right. I’ve been pacing in my room since then. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Cyril shook his head, smiling. “What are we going to do with you?” he teased. “Next time you’ll probably set the whole monastery on fire. Can’t have that.” He came closer to the bed, masking his intent until the final minute.

“Cyril? What are you doing? Cyril! No! Don’t!”  Lysithea shrieked with laughter as Cyril pushed her onto the bed, tickling her sides. “That’s not fair!” She laughed, squirming away from his very persistent fingers. She fought back, brushing her hands down his abdomen towards a different type of sensitive area. 

“Who’s playing dirty now?” Cyril gasped as she touched him through his pants. 

Lysithea kissed him, continuing to tease him with her hands. “Don’t you like it?”

He groaned, kissing her deeply. “You know I do, Lys. You can feel it.”

“Can I see it?” she panted. 

“Do you really want to?”

“I want you, Cyril. All of you.”

Shakily, he agreed, removing his clothes between  hungry kisses. Likewise,  Lysithea disrobed, eagerly touching each new expanse of skin revealed. 

Their eyes drank in each other’s nakedness. Self- conciously ,  Lysithea timidly asked, “You’re not disappointed?”

He kissed her, trailing down her neck to her collarbone. “Never.”

“I’m not too small?” she asked, cupping her breasts.

“They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Reverently, Cyril kneeled before  Lysithea , kissing between her breasts. “May I?” he breathed.

She smiled and nodded, gasping when his mouth covered her nipple. Cyril worshipped her breasts with his tongue, both of them moaning.  Lysithea grabbed fistfuls of his hair, peppering kisses on his face. He pulled back, hands on her hips. Gently, he kissed her navel, pleased at her shuddering breath. “Want me to keep going down?” he asked.

“Not yet. My turn to touch you,” she replied, hands sliding down his chest, playing with the soft dark curls that trailed down past his navel. 

“I’m not too hairy?” he asked nervously. 

“I love it,” she said, rubbing her nose in his chest hair. 

He giggled. “Sorry,” he said. “Tickles.” She smiled. 

“Can I touch you?” she asked, hands trailing towards his erection. 

“I  dunno if I’ll last if you do,” he said apologetically.

“That’s okay. I just want to touch you and for you to touch me.”

When her small dainty hands stroked him, Cyril grunted. “Definitely won’t last much longer,” he muttered. “Gods, Lys.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “I didn’t expect you to feel like that.”

“How do  ya mean?”

“I thought it would feel squishier, somehow. Like me,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him closer to feel her inner lips. 

“You sure?” he asked, before he slid his fingers in. 

“Please,” she said.

They explored each other’s bodies, gasping in gratification. When Cyril found her clitoris,  Lysithea keened. “It feels better than when I-” she started to say, stopping from embarrassment. 

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Refusing to answer but turning crimson,  Lysithea kissed Cyril, stroking him. 

“Ah, Lys-” Cyril panted. “Can you pump me faster? It won’t take long.”

“Yes.” 

Cyril came with his head pillowed between her breasts and her name on his lips. He clung to her as he spasmed through his orgasm.  Lysithea caught his fluids with her hand, wiping it clean with a handkerchief. 

When he was slack and able to orient himself again, Cyril kissed her deeply, leaning into her. “My turn,” he growled. “Tell me what you want.”

Lysithea licked his fingers and stuck his hand between her legs. “Stroke me, please,” she begged. 

Cyril kissed her, tonguing her mouth. His one hand groped her gently while the other explored her folds. She squirmed and ground herself into him whenever he hit a particularly pleasurable area. He lipped at one breast, playing with her nipple. 

“Can-”  Lysithea began shakily. “Can you put your finger inside me?”

Cyril worked his hand down until he found her entrance whereupon he inserted his finger into her. She keened again, grinding into his hand. “An-another,” she gasped. “Kiss me,” she demanded, feeling the tension in her body rise. Their mouths met frantically and  Lysithea grasped his hair. She pulled away only to shakily instruct, “In and out. I’m close.” The tension snapped and she felt her body release. Cyril felt her contracting around his fingers. 

“Th-thank you,” she said, shuddering in his arms. “Th-that was good.”

Cyril wiped his hands off on the discarded handkerchief and gathered her close. “Better?”

“Yes,” she yawned, snuggling closer. “Let’s do that again soon.”

Cyril kissed her forehead and arranged himself around her as she began to drift off to sleep. He placed his chin on the top of her head, holding her close. "We'll get 'em tomorrow, Lysithea," he murmured. "I promise." Intertwined, the two relinquished their worries about the next day and fell into deep slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like some pre-battle sex to help you sleep, amirite? ;)


	5. A Small Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papers found at Shambhala give Lysithea's research team a much needed break in a troubling problem. Lysithea wraps things up at home. Cyril meets the parents.

Finally the war had ended, though much work still needed to be done. Claude had left for  Almyra and appointed  Byleth in his place to rule. Everyone (except Cyril) was surprised by this decision, especially Byleth. Due to the Professor’s inexperience, everyone stayed to help with the transition of leadership for the first couple of months. However, because the whole continent was recovering from war, one by one the students returned to their homes to settle things. Some, like Felix and Sylvain, returned to the monastery often. Others, like Ferdinand and Lysithea, had personal affairs to take care of before they could be at the Professor’s disposal. 

“How long will you be gone, Lys?” Cyril asked, checking her  pegasus’s equipment for the umpteenth time. 

“I don’t know. Dissolving a noble house isn’t done every day, so I am unsure how long the process will take. I hope to be back for your graduation, though,” Lysithea replied, fiddling with her saddlebags. Everything was ready for her to return home, but she still lingered, not wanting to leave Cyril behind. 

“Don’t forget me,” Cyril whispered, pulling  Lysithea into an embrace. He kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally, her lips.

“I could never,” she promised, kissing him back. 

“Please be safe.”

“I will.”

“I’ll write to  ya as much as I can,” he said.

“Me too.”

Cyril held  Lysithea tightly one more time before helping her mount her  pegasus . He stood back as she took off. He watched her leave until he couldn’t see her anymore. With a heavy sigh, Cyril returned to the student dorms. Though he knew she would return, he wished she didn’t have to leave.

*

In Professor Hanneman’s office, a dedicated group of researchers began their studies. Linhardt bent over a sheaf of papers, reading them intently. Hanneman wordlessly passed him another document to peruse. Over in the corner, Annette sat on the floor surrounded by an increasing pile of books. Manuela entered, bringing  Lysithea’s medical chart from the infirmary. 

“Are you certain I’m not violating her trust by sharing these with you?” Manuela asked. “I may be a lot of things, but I value my patients’ privacy highly.”

“My dear Manuela,” Hanneman began.

“Don’t ‘My dear’ me, you stuffed shirt,” Manuela interrupted, ignoring Hanneman’s sputtering. “I realize this is important to helping her. But I want to make sure she has consented to this.” Lazily, Linhardt waved a handwritten piece of paper in front of Manuela’s face. She snatched it out of his hands and read it quickly. “Why didn’t you just start with this?” she said, irritated. “It would have saved me some worry.”

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted,” Hanneman interjected, “ Lysithea had left a written  permissory note to study her crests to hopefully locate a cure.”

“ Nyah ,” Manuela replied, childishly sticking her tongue out at the older man. “You know where to find me if you have any questions,” she added as she left the room.

He huffed and took  Lysithea’s chart from her. “The things I do for research,” he muttered.

Flayn wandered in to the crowded room with some ancient documents. “Here,” she said, laying them on the table next to Linhardt. “This is all I could acquire from  Seteth’s private library. Do not reveal it was I who brought this to you.”

Linhardt grinned cheekily. “I’ll let him think it was me who stole them. More fun that way.” 

Flayn giggled. “Do let me know if you require further assistance from me.” Linhardt nodded and waved her off, burying his nose in the newly proffered papers. 

Bored, Annette hummed while she read. She looked up once, when Felix and Sylvain entered with stacks of books from the  Abyssian library. Felix grunted hello to Annette. She smiled at him. He looked away, blushing. Ignoring the awkward display of flirting before him, Sylvain lowered his stack of books to the floor. “Yuri said you might need these,” Sylvain explained. “And  Hapi said she would stop by later to help, since she might be able to shed some light on the Agarthans’ notes.” Felix deposited his stack, harrumphed farewell to Annette, and left.

Linhart greedily pulled books out of their disorganized stacks, causing them to topple all over the floor. Annette scowled at him and reorganized the mess. The mages poured over papers for hours. It wasn’t until Cyril came bearing a very late dinner that they realized no one had eaten all day. 

Cyril shook his head at them. “ Ya won’t be any use to anyone if  ya pass out from  bein ’ hungry,” he scolded. “Honestly.” 

“Thank you, Cyril,” Annette said. “We didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well ‘til  Lysithea comes back, I guess it’s up to me to make sure you all eat and sleep, since I can’t really help with anything else you’re doing.”

“Much appreciated,” Hanneman said, clapping Cyril on the shoulder. 

“It’s no trouble, really,” Cyril said. “I don’t have a lot to do outside of classwork.”

“Speaking of classwork,” Linhardt drawled, “I don’t suppose you’ve finished those math problems we assigned?”

“Those aren’t due ‘til tomorrow!”

“Then you better go finish them, hadn’t you?” Linhardt replied, shooing Cyril away. Once the younger man had left, Linhart resumed reading, occasionally eating one of the sandwiches Cyril had brought. “Next time, I hope he brings some mustard,” he murmured absently.

*

“Cyril,”  Seteth said, “a letter arrived for you today.”

“Thank you!” Cyril replied, his face instantly transformed into excitement. He took the letter from  Seteth and went to his room to read it in privacy. 

_ Dear Cyril, _

_ I hope this finds you well. Mother and Father have been helping me fill out the forms to dissolve our house. We had trouble finding some of the records because they were destroyed by the Agarthans when they invaded. I wrote to Lorenz for advice and he said it shouldn’t be an issue, us not having certain documents. If all continues to go well, I should be back within the next two months.  _

_ My parents will join me on my return. They want to meet you. I’ve told them a lot about you over the years (I hope you don’t mind) and they know that I care for you. I’ve told them we have an agreed upon engagement, and Mother was disappointed that I didn’t have a ring to wear. I told her that there wasn’t time because of the war. If you happen to find a ring before I return, I am a size 4. Hilda will know what that means.  _

_ I miss you dearly. Your letters have kept me motivated to finish this quickly so I can be in your arms again. Linhardt has kept me updated on the research they have been doing. I was surprised to hear that you have been “nagging them into sleeping and eating properly.” Of course, those are Linhardt’s words so I will assume you have been taking care of our friends’ well-being regardless of their determination to neglect self-care. _

_ Professor Hanneman has said they are close to a discovery. That the papers recovered from Shambhala revealed some illuminating information. I am so glad they plan to burn everything when they are done. No one should know how to replicate those horrific tortures they devised.  _

_ I have been lonely, despite enjoying my time with my parents. They don’t make me laugh like you do. No one comforts me like you. I haven’t slept as well being away from you. I am sleeping, don’t worry. But no one kisses my nightmares away or holds me like you.  _

_ Please write soon.  _

_ With love,  _

_ Lysithea _

Cyril held her letter to his chest, feeling a deep ache in his heart. Though gladdened by her news she would see him soon, Cyril wanted her with him now. He went over to his desk and penned two letters, one to  Lysithea , the other to Hilda. 

_ Hilda, _

_ What’s a size 4 ring and where can I find one for  _ _ Lysithea _ _? How much is one? I  _ _ gotta _ _ have it before she returns in two months so her mother isn’t upset at me. _

_ Cyril _

*

Bouncing impatiently in her seat,  Lysithea strained her neck to see if Cyril was waiting for her at the monastery gates. Her mother chuckled and reached for her father’s hands. “Young love,” she murmured.

“I still say she’s too young to know what love is,” he grumbled.

“Father, I can hear you,”  Lysithea said, rolling her eyes. Hearing her name being called,  Lysithea looked around until she spotted her friends from the Golden Deer. 

Laughing, she stepped out of the carriage. “What are all of you doing here?”

“Didn’t you get the Professor’s wedding invitation?” asked Raphael, confused. 

“It must have missed us,”  Lysithea shrugged. “When is the wedding?”

“Next month. We arrived early,” explained Ignatz.

“Too early to be polite,” Lorenz sniffed. 

“Eh,” Leonie said, gently shoving Lorenz. “We also came because Cyril asked us to. There’s a surprise inside.”

“A surprise?”  Lysithea repeated. 

“Yeah, come on.”

Confused,  Lysithea followed her rambunctious classmates to the Great Hall. “Do you know what this is about?” she asked her parents. They shook their heads, just as perplexed. 

Flower petals rained from the doorway when she entered the hall. She started at the very festive decorations draped along the walls. “What’s going on?”

“Lysithea,” Cyril greeted, enveloping her in a hug. “This was Hilda’s idea,” he explained.

“ Of course it was,”  Lysithea sighed. “What exactly is this?”

“It’s a surprise engagement party for us,” he whispered. Cyril turned to her parents and introduced himself. “ Mr and  Mrs von  Ordelia , my name is Cyril. I’m glad to meet you.” He offered his hand to  Lysithea’s father and mother. 

“Lysithea, you didn’t tell us Cyril was...” her mother began, eyeing him. Cyril nervously pulled on the collar of his shirt. Didn’t she tell her parents he wasn’t from Fodlan? Why hadn’t he thought to ask this before? 

“Mother, you’re upsetting Cyril,”  Lysithea reprimanded. 

“...handsome, of course,”  Mrs von  Ordelia continued. “I mean, she did say you were attractive, but she did not do you justice.”

“Mother!”  Lysithea blushed. “I’m sorry,” she murmured to Cyril. “I should have warned you mother is a bit of a cougar.”

“Darling, you are making the poor man uncomfortable,”  Mr von  Ordelia replied, ushering his wife away from Cyril. He mouthed apologies to  Lysithea and Cyril as he distracted his wife with cake. 

“Are you okay?”  Lysithea asked.

“I really thought she was  gonna say something else.” He embraced her, hiding his face in her shoulder.

“Cyril, if I thought my parents were going to receive you poorly, I would have told you. And I would not have introduced you until they were better behaved. But my parents aren’t like that. They’re happy I’ve found someone who loves me, even knowing I might not live long.”

“It scared me,” Cyril muttered in her hair, holding her close.

“I am truly sorry. It didn’t occur to me to think about something like that. I’ll do better next time.”

“It’s okay.”

“It isn’t. People have been  cruel to you and I should have thought of that beforehand. I will not be thoughtless again.”

“All right,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Anyway, I wanted to give you something. Come with me?”

Cyril led  Lysithea to a secluded corner of the Great Hall and took a small box out of his pocket. “Hilda helped me find a ring for you. I think she made it, actually.” He opened the box and revealed a silver ring with an amethyst inset. “There are lilies carved on the band, too,” he said. “I remembered you like those.”

Lysithea smiled brightly at him and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Try it on,” he encouraged. 

She took the band out and slipped it on her ring finger, admiring it. 

“It looks good on you,” he said huskily. 

“It’s beautiful,” she replied. 

“So are you.”

Lysithea reddened. “I forgot how blunt you can be,” she said, hiding her blush in her hands. 

Cyril took her hands from her face and kissed them. “I missed you so  so much.”

“Do you think people would notice if we snuck out of our own party?”

“Hilda definitely would.”

Lysithea sighed. “Fine. I guess I’ll stay.”

“There’s cake,” Cyril bribed. 

“You should have led with that,” she teased, holding his hand as he led her to the food. 

Lysithea’s parents exclaimed over her new ring and admired the handiwork. Cyril brought Hilda over to show her how the ring fit. 

“It’s perfect,” Hilda squealed. “I’m so glad. And it suits you.”

“ Of course it would,”  Lysithea said. “Because you made it. And you hate it when people’s accessories don’t fit their style.”

Hilda tilted her head proudly. “I do.”

“Thank you, Hilda. For the ring. And the party.”

“You deserve it,” she told  Lysithea honestly. “Out of everyone here, you deserve all the happiness we can give. Not that everyone hasn’t suffered in some way or another, or deserves any less happiness,” she added hastily.

“I think I understand,”  Lysithea replied. “Thank you, Hilda.”

“You’re welcome! There’s one more surprise for the two of you.”

“What?” Cyril said warily.

“Annette and Linhardt can explain better than me.” Hilda took the von  Ordelias and Cyril to Hanneman’s office where the group of researchers sat. 

“Dear Lysithea,” Hanneman began.

“This is not a cure,” Linhardt interrupted. Hanneman frowned at him. “Well, it isn’t.”

“We have devised a treatment of sorts for your dual Crests.”

“It’s like medicine,” Annette interjected. “ So if you stop taking it, it won’t help you.”

“How does it work?” Lysithea asked. 

“It suppresses your Crests, thus lowering the strain they produce on your body.”

“Which means,” Manuela said, entering the room, “that certain physiological functions will be possible given time.”

“Like what?”

Manuela raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You are hoping to have children, I assume?”

Cyril began coughing, startled.  Lysithea made a strangled noise. “Manuela! Not in front of my parents!” she hissed. 

“Lysithea, dear, we know how children are made,” her mother said. 

“That’s not the point!” she squeaked. 

“I assume you’ll want to know more about that in detail later,” Manuela purred. “For now, know that this treatment will make it possible, not feasible. I recommend full removal of Crests before trying to procreate, hmm?”

“Which we are still trying to discover,” Linhardt added, trying to reassure the von  Ordelias . “We hope the treatment will extend your lifespan so that we can truly work towards a full removal.”

Cyril wrapped his arms around  Lysithea , his chin on her head. “Do  ya know how much longer she has?”

“We estimate five to ten years at least,” Hanneman said. “That’s the low estimate. She could live to be fifty.”

“Don’t worry,” Annette added. “We will keep trying for a cure.”

Lysithea cried, burying her face in Cyril’s chest. 

“Don’t cry, dear girl,” Hanneman said. 

Lysithea looked back at him. “I’m not crying because I’m sad, Professor Hanneman,” she said. “This is a wonderful gift you’ve given me. Even five more years is more than I had before.”

“We are grateful,”  Mr von  Ordelia said. “That you would dedicate your time to helping Lysithea.”

“It is the least we can do,” Linhardt replied. “After all she has done for all of us.”

Lysithea smiled, sobbing. Cyril stroked her back, grinning. Even if it was only five more years, it would be time well spent in each other’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the penultimate chapter. But I'm leaving room just in case it isn't. Sorry if it's a little rough. I might go back and edit it later. I just really wanted to get to their wedding in the next chapter.


	6. Wedding Bells Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding bells (and some smut)

“Shh! Someone will hear,” Lysithea scolded as Cyril moaned into her shoulder. 

“Sorry,” he groaned. “I can’t help it. I haven’t seen ya in months.” 

“I know,” Lysithea replied, stroking his head. “But I swear every time we are remotely close to initiating sex someone interrupts us. And I am tired of it. I need you.” Her other hand slipped into his pants, teasing him. 

“It’s like they’re doing it on purpose,” Cyril muttered, hands sliding up Lysithea’s dress. 

“Knowing Claude, they probably are,” she said grouchily. “Hopefully no one will think to look here.” Cyril and Lysithea were hiding in Rhea’s old room, making out in the large wardrobe that was now empty. 

“Why did Claude have to make you the flower girl anyway?” 

“Because he has a twisted sense of humor. That’s why you’re the ring-bearer.” 

“It’s not like it matters,” Cyril said, “since they’re getting married twice.” 

“It’s a state wedding. It matters.” Lysithea rolled her eyes. 

“I just want to be able to spend time with you without someone walking in on us.” 

“You mean like how my parents entered my room yesterday without knocking?” 

“Yeah. Like that.” 

“I can’t believe my mother was ogling you like that.” 

“I can.” Cyril, tired of groping Lysithea, began to remove his clothes. “Can ya take off your dress? I want to see you.” 

“Sure. Just watch out for my elbows, okay?” As she wriggled out of her dress, the two heard the door creak open. “Shit,” Lysithea whispered. Cyril sighed. 

They heard a giggle and Hilda’s voice saying, “Don’t worry. No one will think we’re in here.” The door slammed shut and soon the two heard moaning and springs in the mattress squeaking. 

“Oh no!” Lysithea said, mortified. 

“I do not want to be here for this,” Cyril added, face in his hands. “It’s bad enough we get interrupted, but for this?” 

“Should we stay or go?” Lysithea asked. 

“I’m not gonna stay for this.” 

“I don’t want to see Hilda naked,” Lysithea replied. 

“Do ya wanna hear her naked? ‘Cause we’re about to.” 

“Good point.” Cyril and Lysithea hastily redressed and did their best to subtly sneak out of the wardrobe without bothering the occupants of the bed. 

Luckily, Hilda and Caspar were still clothed. Unluckily, Lysithea and Cyril were detected. “Cyril?” Hilda squealed; eyes wide. “Lysithea?” 

“You don’t tell anyone we were here, and we won’t tell anyone you were here,” Lysithea said. “Deal?” 

“Deal,” Hilda said. 

“Why were you in the wardrobe?” Caspar asked, confused. 

“Why do you think?” Lysithea asked, hands on her hips. 

Caspar looked at Hilda, hoping she’d tell him. When he realized her lips were sealed, he shrugged. 

Lysithea rolled her eyes and pulled Cyril out of the room. “Let’s find somewhere else. Even if we have to camp in the middle of the Sealed Forest, I am going to spend time with you today.” She stomped off, determined. 

“Oh boy,” Cyril muttered. He recognized that gleam in her eye. Someone was going to get hurt. 

* 

“How did you find this place again?” Lysithea asked, snuggling into Cyril’s chest happily. They were in a secluded room at an inn outside the monastery. It was comfortable and clean, so Lysithea didn’t complain about the distance. 

Cyril cleared his throat nervously. “I, uh, asked Claude where we could go and spend time together uninterrupted.” 

She shot up from her repose and glared at him. “You what?!” 

Cyril put his hands in front of his body defensively. “Before ya get mad, I told him that you were about to Hades anyone who bothered us. So he told me about this place.” 

“If he teases us...” Lysithea threatened. 

“He won’t. But he’s gonna plan our wedding in exchange.” 

“What?!” 

“Lys,” Cyril said, trying to placate his irate fiancée, “Sithee, don’t be mad, okay?” 

“You’re letting Claude plan our wedding?” 

“What’s more important? Time alone or our wedding?” 

“I’m not sure right now.” Lysithea crossed her arms and pouted, looking away. 

“I know I should’ve asked you first, and I’m sorry. But we’ve needed a place to go to without nosy people butting in.” Cyril placed his hands gently on her shoulders, massaging the tension he felt there. “Besides, he’s paying for it. So we might as well let him.” 

“I guess,” Lysithea sighed. “But I’m still mad, okay.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Not at you. At Claude. He took advantage of you in your moment of weakness.” 

Cyril chuckled, kissing the nape of her neck gently. “A man will do a lot of things for the woman he loves.” 

Lysithea turned around, kissing him gently on the mouth. “What kind of things?” 

Huskily, he replied, “Anything.” 

“Anything?” 

Cyril began to disrobe, kissing Lysithea each time he discarded an article of clothing. Once he was naked, Cyril began unbuttoning Lysithea’s dress, lightly pecking a trail down her body. He stopped at the hemline of her underwear. “Would you like me to continue?” 

She shivered, nervous and aroused. “I think so? We haven’t tried this before, so...” 

“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop,” Cyril promised. “But I have been told that most women like this.” 

“And who told you that?” Lysithea asked, her breath hitching as he removed the rest of her clothes, kissing her inner thigh. 

“Shamir.” 

“She would know.” 

“Yeah.” Cyril guided Lysithea to the bed and helped her lay down near the edge, where he kneeled between her legs and began to caress her body in kisses. 

Lysithea squirmed as Cyril’s mouth moved closer to her labia, shuddering when he finally kissed her there. 

“Do ya like it?” he asked nervously. 

“Yes. Do you?” 

“I like what it does to you,” he said, gently probing around her clit with his tongue. 

She moaned. “Cy-Cyril,” she gasped, squeezing her legs together around his head. “Sorry.” 

“I don’t mind,” he said, bending down and sucking. 

“Aa-aah!” Lysithea said, feeling her body about to release. “I..don’t stop!” She cried out in pleasure as her orgasm hit, convulsing with each wave. 

Cyril pulled away, panting. “That was fast,” he observed, surprised. He wiped his mouth on a towel and laid down next to her. “How was it?” 

Lysithea smiled at him, pulling him to her body. “We should do that again. But not yet. I want to make you feel good too.” 

Cyril blushed. “Then...would you mind?” 

“You want me to return the favor?” 

He nodded bashfully. “I know it’s not as fun for you, but I’d like to try.” 

“Okay,” Lysithea agreed, pulling her hair back. “I should warn you I have a very sensitive gag reflex.” 

“If you don’t like it, we’ll stop.” 

They tried various positions until finally one was comfortable for Lysithea. She giggled nervously. “I don’t think I can fit all of you in.” 

“That’s okay,” Cyril said. “Do what you can,” he encouraged. 

She hesitated, slowly putting her mouth around him, wrinkling her nose at the salty taste. She pulled him about halfway in when her gag reflex triggered. She released him, coughing and trying to suppress anything from coming up. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’ll try again.” 

“You’re doing good,” he said. 

“Don’t patronize me,” Lysithea grumbled. 

“I’m not, I-” Cyril gasped as she licked a stripe down his shaft. “That works too,” he said. 

Lysithea decided to start small and work up to having him wholly in her mouth again. She kissed and sucked his shaft, sometimes putting just the tip of his penis inside her mouth. She teased him, never staying in one place for long. 

“Please,” Cyril begged, “finish me off.” 

Lysithea grinned at him and slid his member into her mouth again, this time angling it away from the back of her throat. She managed to develop a rhythm that satisfied both of them. Cyril clutched her hair, gripping handfuls tightly. 

“Faster?” he asked, whimpering at the pleasure she was giving him. She obliged him, moving as fast as she could, mouth aching from being used. She jerked back, surprised at the force of his load bursting into her mouth. Lysithea ran over to the towel and spat everything out of her mouth quickly, retching the salty fluid out as best she could. 

“Sorry,” she apologized, wiping her mouth. “Gag reflex.” 

Cyril shook his head wordlessly and pulled her into his arms. “That felt good,” he whispered. “Thank you for trying it.” 

Determined, Lysithea looked up at him and promised, “I will get it right.” 

“You don’t have to force yourself,” he said, kissing her cheek. 

“I want to. For you.” 

“Then we’ll both practice until we’re perfect,” he told her. Pink, Lysithea looked away. “Aw, are you embarrassed?” 

“Shut up,” she muttered. 

* 

When she saw Claude next, Lysithea gave him the finger. He replied with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll have a wedding fit for a princess.” 

Lysithea warped him into the pond and strode away, dusting her hands off proudly. 

* 

Claude and Byleth’s wedding came and went. The Fodlan ceremony was a surprisingly subdued affair. They more than made up for it by having a very Almyran wedding. Raphael was raving about the feasting for weeks afterwards. Lysithea was sad to say good-bye to her friends but knew she’d see them all again in three months at Cyril’s graduation. 

She, herself, had to leave him for a while to help her parents move into their new cottage. “I’ll be back as soon as they’re settled,” she promised. “I won’t miss your graduation.” 

“I hate seeing ya leave,” Cyril said, frowning. 

“But you love to see me go?” she teased, winking at him. 

“Where’d you hear that?” he groaned, shaking his head. 

“Sylvain.” 

“Right.” Cyril held her hands and kissed them, pulling her into a fierce embrace. “I’ll miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you too. Be careful, okay?” 

“You too.” 

They kissed and waved good-bye as she rode off with her parents. He sighed sadly. 

* 

_Dear_ _Lysithea_ _,_

_Enclosed is your wedding invitation. Since you two never set a date, I’m arbitrarily choosing one. Your wedding is in three months. Please send Hilda your measurements. Do not fret. I have made sure all the small details are accounted for. RSVP with the members of your bridal party and those you want to have present for the ceremony._

_Best wishes,_

_Claude_

Lysithea read the letter, dumbfounded. She stood motionless for a few minutes, reading and re-reading each line. Throwing the letter to the ground, she screamed “Claude!” shaking her fist in the air. “When I catch you, you’re in a world of pain!” 

_Dear Claude,_

_You motherfucker._

_Rot in hell,_

_Lysithea_

Claude chuckled at the letter and tucked it into his coat. He handed the other letter to Byleth. “This one’s for you.” 

_Dear_ ~~ _Professor_ _Your Majesty_~~ _Byleth_ _,_

_Please do something about Claude. It is far too soon to marry Cyril. Three months is not enough notice. I need more information about when, where, and how many. I like lilies and purple (which you probably remember, but just in case I wanted it stated for the record). Don’t let Claude turn this into a ridiculous affair. If he does, I swear we’ll elope._

_Sincerely,_

_Lysithea_

_P.S. I hope you had a lovely honeymoon._

* 

After many letters exchanged between Claude, Cyril, Lysithea, and Byleth, a wedding was planned. True to his word, Claude had provided everything necessary for a traditional Almyran wedding. “Consider this part of Almyra’s reparations,” he told Cyril. “Every Almyran deserves to celebrate in style, whether repatriated or not. You were robbed of many traditions but I’ll be damned if this one passes you by.” 

Touched, Cyril thanked Claude, clasping him in a hug. “That’s real nice of ya.” 

“But also, this is totally me screwing with Lysithea.” 

Cyril rolled his eyes. “Just leave her alone on our wedding day, I’m begging you.” 

“I swear on the four saints that I will behave according to my position as Almyra’s king.” 

“You don’t believe in the saints.” Cyril crossed his arms and glared at Claude. 

“I swear I will behave. Sothis strike me if I lie,” he promised. Byleth smacked Claude on the back of the head. He whipped his head around to stare at his spouse. “What was that for?” 

Smirking, Byleth shrugged. 

* 

Lysithea cried happily, watching Cyril receive top honors from Seteth. “We are truly proud of you,” he said, “and officially welcome you into the Knights of Seiros.” 

Cyril stammered his thanks and walked over to Lysithea holding his graduation papers. 

“You did it!” she cheered. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m so proud of you!” Lysithea hugged him gleefully and kissed him passionately on the mouth. She pulled away, blushing. 

He grinned, kissing her back. 

“Hey!” Shamir yelled, “It’s not your wedding yet so sit down!” 

Embarrassed, the two took their seats and watched the rest of the ceremony holding hands. 

“It’s hard to believe we’re getting married tomorrow,” she whispered. 

“Leave it to Claude to plan our wedding right after I finish school,” Cyril scoffed. “Some tactician he is. Why couldn’t he have let us have a week in-between to relax?” 

“Probably so I don’t overthink things and ruin it.” 

“I guess.” 

Lysithea leaned her head against Cyril shoulder happily. Tomorrow she would be his wife. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially my longest fic. And sorry. I had to cut the wedding chapter in half. It got too long.


	7. Wedding Bells Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a wedding! And a wedding night! And a wedding morning!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update. I meant to finish it last weekend but came down with a pretty nasty sinus headache. Hoping to finish posting it this weekend. Enjoy!

That evening Hilda spirited Lysithea away from Cyril’s side. “We’re having a girl’s night,” she told him, ignoring his protests. “Every woman should be pampered for her wedding.” Lysithea stared longingly at Cyril as Hilda took her to her room. “Don’t worry! It’ll be fun!” 

* 

Lysithea sat still, overwhelmed by the colors, scents, and sounds of the women around her. Hilda painted intricate patterns on her hands and feet with a dye called henna. “It’s an Almyran wedding tradition,” she said. “It fades, don’t worry.” The cold paste tickled her ankles and Lysithea couldn’t understand how something that looked like mud would turn out to be a beautiful red tattoo. 

“Our spirit marks are similar,” Petra observed, “but permanent.” 

“How did you learn about this?” Lysithea asked. 

Hilda hummed, painting another line. “Claude had me learn all about Almyran wedding traditions for his wedding, since I was his best woman. And I watched his cousin paint his designs and Byleth’s so I could make one for you.” 

“How nervous should I be about what Claude has planned for tomorrow?” 

“Not nervous at all,” Hilda assured her. “Right, Marianne?” 

“Oh, uh, yes. Hold still, please,” Marianne said as she began braiding another intricate coil on Lysithea’s head. 

“Hilda, do you have any jewelry and makeup planned for her?” asked Dorothea. “I’d like to help if you don’t.” 

“I’ll need your help putting her dress and veil on tomorrow but tonight we are all set.” 

“Great! I am so excited for you, Sithee.” 

“Thanks, Thea,” Lysithea replied, smiling. “It’s funny, but I don’t feel nervous at all about marrying Cyril.” 

Leonie smirked. “That’s because you two fooled around enough that you’re not going to be disappointed tomorrow night.” 

“Leonie!” Lysithea shrieked. “You can’t say things like that!” 

“But it’s true, right?” 

“How is Cyril in bed?” Dorothea asked. “I’m legitimately curious.” 

“Th-that is none of your business. I don’t ask you what you do in your bedroom!” 

“Oh, I don’t mind sharing,” Dorothea replied, leaning languidly across Hilda’s bed. 

“We know,” Leonie muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“Like you’re one to talk,” Dorothea rebutted. “Or have you stopped seeing Lorenz and Ignatz?” 

The room erupted into squeals. “Is that true, Leonie?” Marianne asked, surprised. 

“Deets, now,” Hilda snapped. 

“It’s not my fault,” Leonie protested. “I keep telling them that I don’t know who I like better. They’re both perfect gentlemen but neither of them will make a move.” She sighed. “At all.” 

Hilda tsked in sympathy. “I’ll have a talk with Lorenz and see what’s holding him up,” she said. 

“I could maybe talk to Ignatz,” Marianne added softly. 

“Thanks, but I want to figure out which one of them I want to be with. And I don’t think I’m ever going to know if neither of them will even kiss me,” Leonie grumbled. 

From the corner of the room, a small voice piped up, “Why not both?” 

Every head turned towards the speaker, who squeaked in alarm. “Eep! Uh, don’t mind me, it was just an idle thought,” Bernadetta said, trying to hide herself behind her embroidery pane. “It’s not like Bernie has any experience with love, so really what I said doesn’t count.” 

“Say...” Dorothea said slowly, “that is an idea...” 

Leonie instantly dismissed the suggestion. “It wouldn’t work. As passionate as they are, neither of them would want to share.” She sighed. “I’ll just have to be single forever.” 

“I could take Lorenz off your hands,” Dorothea suggested wickedly. 

The room erupted into laughter and gossip ensued as the women discussed their various love lives (or lack thereof). Lysithea found herself enjoying the company of her peers, realizing she missed this when she was a student. 

“Let’s have a girl’s night more often,” she said. “I wished I had valued this more when I was at school.” 

“Aw,” Hilda cooed. 

“I’ll bake sweets,” Mercedes offered, entering the room with a basket full of goodies. 

“I’ll help,” Annette volunteered. “Sorry we’re late. I may have misjudged the amount of baking powder needed for the cookies.” 

“It turned out okay,” Mercedes laughed. “I accidentally doubled the recipe.” 

“Cookies,” demanded Lysithea. “Now, please.” She reached out to grab one and eat it but Hilda stopped her. 

“You’ll ruin the henna,” she scolded. 

Lysithea pouted until Marianne fed a cookie to her. 

* 

Later that night, Lysithea admired her dried henna tattoos, lulling herself to sleep by gazing at the intricate patterns. Contented from all the sweets and time spent with her friends, Lysithea drifted off, wondering what tomorrow would bring. 

Morning dawned bright and early (as it does) and the bridal party burst into action. Hilda flitted about, never staying in place for long. True to her word, Dorothea helped dress Lysithea. First went on the cropped cotton undershirt, then the billowy cotton pants, and finally the white embroidered silk overdress. Bernadetta had embroidered purple lilies along the hem, collar, and sleeves of the dress. Marianne helped attach the veil to her hair. Once all of her clothes were donned, Hilda took over Lysithea’s makeup and jewelry. Lysithea stepped into her purple flats, admiring the finished ensemble. 

“You’re beautiful,” Hilda said, squeezing Lysithea’s shoulders. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” 

Her friends led her to the dais erected especially for the wedding. They helped her sit on the cushions and made final arrangements to her hair and clothes before sitting down with the other guests. Leonie and Hilda stayed behind to hold a gauzy silk cloth above her head. Lysithea’s parents entered and sat below the dais to her left. Seteth and Shamir took the place of Cyril’s parents and sat below the dais on Lysithea’s right. Lysithea’s heart leaped when Cyril entered, looking handsome in his white embroidered shalwar-kameez and a purple scarf wrapped around his head. 

Cyril took Lysithea's hands and kissed them. "I like the henna," he murmured.

"Hilda did it." She looked at his hands. "Why don't you have any?"

"It's usually only for women."

"That's a shame. You'd look nice all tattooed." Cyril grinned goofily at her and she replied in kind. 

Ignoring the ceremony entirely, the two gazed into each other’s eyes, only snapping to attention when Claude asked Lysithea if she consented to marry Cyril. 

“Yes, of course,” she said. 

“But first she has to bake a cake,” Leonie interrupted. 

Again, Claude asked Lysithea if she wanted to marry Cyril. Annoyed, glancing askance at Leonie, Lysithea affirmed her decision. 

“Oh, but she can’t until she finishes her book,” Hilda added, batting her eyelashes. 

Lysithea narrowed her eyes at Hilda and Claude. They were up to something. 

“Do you, Lysithea, take Cyril to be your husband?” Claude asked. 

“Yes. And if anyone interrupts me again, I’ll smite them!” she growled. 

Claude hid a smile and asked Cyril, “Do you take Lysithea to be your wife?” 

“Yes!” 

Claude nodded. “Well, then, in front of these witnesses and the goddess, I pronounce you two married.” 

Beaming, Cyril lifted the veil from Lysithea’s face and kissed her. She smiled, kissing him back. 

“All right everyone,” Claude said, throwing up his hands, “Let’s feast!” 

Lysithea rolled her eyes and placed her head on Cyril’s shoulders, closing her eyes contentedly. 

* 

“What was all that back there?” Lysithea asked Claude once the guests dispersed to the dining area. “Why did you have Leonie and Hilda interrupt me?” 

“Did Hilda forget to explain?” 

“Obviously.” 

“It’s a tradition that the bride is asked three times.” 

“I see.” 

“Sorry about that. I thought she told you.” 

“Maybe she did, but I didn’t hear her.” 

“You were too busy looking at Cyril to do anything,” Claude teased. 

Softly, Lysithea smiled, looking over to where Cyril and Hilda were having their own conversation. “Yeah.” 

Claude surprised her by pulling her into a hug. “I am truly happy for you.” 

“Thanks.” Lysithea wriggled out of his brotherly hold and pointed across the lawn. “What do you think they’re talking about?” 

“I know what they’re talking about. Hilda is giving Cyril the Goneril’s wedding present.” 

“Which is?” 

“A deed to some land and funds for a home.” 

Lysithea stared at Claude, gaping. “That’s too much. She doesn’t have to do that!” 

“Oh, but she does,” Claude grinned. “It’s part of the reparations Almyra required of Fodlan. For all those missing Almyran children that the Gonerils put into “servitude.” Holst and Hilda agreed to it. For every Almyran serving at the Goneril household, they are required to provide proper payment for their services.” 

“I’m surprised they agreed to that.” 

“Cyril’s story of what life was like at her uncle’s house really helped Hilda understand some things. She pressured Holst to do something about it and we drafted a legal plan.” 

“Wow,” Lysithea said. “I’m impressed.” 

Claude smiled, crossing his arms. “Me too. Hilda is also going to help reconnect the Almyran families that were separated at the Throat.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Lysithea said. 

“In the meantime, we need some help starting a school for all those displaced kids. I was wondering if you and Cyril wanted to help?” 

“I’d like that.” 

* 

It was late before Cyril and Lysithea made it to their room. Their room. Cyril liked how that sounded. He could see that Hilda and Claude had somehow made it into the place, because he sure hadn’t decorated the room in flower petals. 

“I’m stuffed,” Lysithea groaned, throwing herself backwards onto the bed. 

“You didn’t have to eat all that cake,” he teased. She stuck her tongue out at him. “Careful,” Cyril said. “Or I might have to put that tongue to work.” 

“Oh?” she replied, leaning forward. “And how would you like to use my tongue?” 

Cyril blushed. “I mean, we’re married but it’s not like we haven’t done stuff before.” 

“Not everything, though,” Lysithea reminded him. 

“No,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss her. “Not everything.” She pulled him down to her, kissing him hungrily. He returned her passion with equal fervor. 

Hastily clothes were pulled off and discarded across the room. “Do,” Cyril panted, “do you want to try tonight? We don’t have to.” 

“Yes,” Lysithea confirmed. “I want to.” 

“We’ll take it slow. Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will.” 

They touched and teased each other until Lysithea felt aroused enough to attempt guiding Cyril into her. “I think I’m ready,” she breathed. 

“I have medicine,” Cyril told her. “Shamir gave it to me yesterday.” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Lysithea told him. “I’m more worried about whether or not this will hurt.” 

Cyril kissed her. “We can stop.” 

“No. You’ve had your fingers in me. That should help.” 

“Okay.” Cyril opened a small packet of herbs sitting next to the bed and chewed them, wincing at the bitter taste. “Now I’m ready.” 

Lysithea wrinkled her nose at him. “It smells funky.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Better a weird smell than a baby, right?” 

“Yeah.” He drank some water and checked his breath again. “That’s better.” 

Lysithea giggled and pulled him closer. “Just fuck me already,” she whispered. “You’re being a tease.” 

“You mean like this?” Cyril joked, as he stroked her labia with his fingers. “Or like this?” He lined himself up with her and rubbed her opening with the tip of his penis. 

She gasped at the sensation. “Don’t stop!” 

He growled something incomprehensible as he kissed her and touched her breasts. He continued to stroke her folds with his member before lining up and starting to enter her. 

Lysithea winced at the uncomfortable feeling and said, “Before you move further, let me adjust.” 

Cyril nodded and waited until she was ready for more. After a few more starts and stops, he was finally wholly joined in her. “So,” he groaned. “This is sex, huh?” 

“What we were doing before wasn’t?” Lysithea asked, moaning a little when he nibbled behind her ear. 

“This is different,” he insisted, giving her a small thrust. “It’s more...” 

“Intimate?” 

“Yeah.” 

She intertwined her hand in his hair and slid the other down his back. “Whatever it is, I like doing it with you. And only you.” 

Kissing a scar on her shoulder, he agreed as he began increasing his pace. Though it was fumbling and new, this was theirs. Cyril did his best to hold back and wait for Lysithea’s release, but he knew it wouldn’t take long. She felt good. He hoped he did too. 

“Lys,” he moaned. “You close?” 

Her breath hitched as he found a particularly pleasurable spot in her body. “Maybe? It’s hard to tell doing it this way.” 

“I might not make it,” he said. “I’ll have to pull out.” 

“Do whatever you have to,” she said. “I just want to be here with you.” 

Cyril buried his face in her breasts, stilling for a moment as he moved his hand to help further Lysithea along. He kissed one nipple, then the other. “How is that?” 

“Good. You can start again if you like.” 

Finally they found their rhythm, clinging to each other in their simultaneous release. Lysithea laughed lightly as they shuddered in tandem. “Thank you,” she said. “For loving me. And not giving up on me.” 

“Thank you,” he replied. “For showing me a bigger world. And for loving me.” 

Lysithea nuzzled her face in his chest, enjoying the feel of him in her. “Are you happy?” 

“Yeah. Are you?” 

“Definitely.” 

* 

Groggily, Lysithea woke to a knock on the door. She blearily looked around, gazing lovingly at Cyril’s sleeping face before trying to figure out who had disturbed her. 

“Room service,” said a voice through the door. 

Lysithea shook Cyril awake and scrounged around the floor for a robe to put on. Cyril scratched at his chest and yawned. “Lys? Why’re you getting dressed?” 

“Because Claude’s outside the door and he probably has a key to this room,” she hissed. 

“Why is he here?” Cyril growled. 

“I hope you’re decent,” Claude said as he opened the door, pushing a cart laden with breakfast into the room. He looked around, smirking. “Looks like you two enjoyed yourselves.” 

Lysithea flipped him off. “Get out.” 

“Thanks for the food,” Cyril said, standing up. “But get out.” 

Claude gave Cyril a look of approval and shrugged. “All right, all right. I know where I’m not wanted. Remember to leave for your honeymoon today, okay?” 

“Out, Claude,” Lysithea said, shoving him out of the door. She slammed it shut, locking it and barring it with a chair. She turned around and blushed. “Um, Cyril?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re still naked.” 

He blushed, suddenly understanding the look Claude was giving him. “So are you.” 

Lysithea smiled, sliding the robe off her shoulders. “So I am.” She sauntered over to him and kissed him. “Let’s cover the food so it doesn’t get cold. I have a feeling neither of us are hungry yet.” 

Cyril pulled her into the bed with him and teased, “Oh, I’m hungry. Just not for food.” 


	8. For However Long It Lasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...it is said that, for however long it lasted, they were happy."

*Five Years Later*

“Happy birthday, Lys,” Cyril said, bringing in a cake decorated with candles. “I made it myself.”

“Thank you! It smells delicious.” Humming,  Lysithea made a wish and blew out the candles.

“What did  ya wish for?”

“Another year with you, of course!”

“You say that every year.”

“So far it’s come true,” she said, smiling a bit sadly. She shook herself out of heavier thoughts and focused on the dessert before her. “What kind of cake is it?”

“You’ll have to eat it to find out,” Cyril teased.

After cutting the cake into pieces,  Lysithea took a bite. “ Mmm !  Ish nummy,” she said, savoring the taste of the icing and chocolate on her tongue.

“Mercedes gave me a recipe you hadn’t tried yet. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Thank you very much! Any other birthday surprises?”

“Some letters from our friends arrived. One of them is from Linhardt and Hanneman.”

Lysithea’s eyes widened and she ran over to the writing desk to open her mail. “I hope they have some good news,” she said. 

“Me too. Your treatment hasn’t been helping as much lately. I’ve noticed you’ve been feeling off.”

“It’s not every day,” she told him. “But yes. Some days it hurts to get out of bed and all I want is to sleep.”

“What do they say?”

Quickly  Lysithea scanned the letter and let out a loud squeal. “Cyril! They said they know how to remove my Crest of Charon!” 

“That’s something, I suppose,” he said, frowning. “But wouldn’t it be better if they got rid of the major Crest first?”

“I suppose that one is harder to eradicate, since it is stronger.”

“We’ll ask them. When can it be done?”

“They said as soon as we can head to the Monastery.”

“Good. What should we do about the school?”

“The kids have been working hard. Let’s give them a break,” Cyril suggested. 

“They have earned it,” she agreed. “We’ll share some cake with them and throw a bit of a party too.”

“Now you’re  thinkin ’ like an  Almyran ,” he teased. 

“I’m so excited!”  Lysithea bounced on her toes and kissed Cyril on the cheek. “This is the happiest I’ve been since our wedding day!”

Cyril smiled and pulled her into an embrace. “Want me to make it the happiest day of your life?” he murmured into her ear. 

She shivered in anticipation. “Well, I won’t say no. You sure know how to spoil  me, Cyril.”

*

Birds chirped outside the window as  Lysithea rested on their bed. For three months she had recovered from the procedure, placed on bed rest as her body healed. Finally, however, she felt better enough to do things. And the first thing she wanted to do was bake. 

Cyril entered the kitchen to familiar smells. “Is that  bamieh ?” he asked excitedly. “I haven’t had that in forever!”

“Claude gave me the recipe,” she said, tasting the batter. “Needs more yogurt,” she muttered.  Lysithea turned to Cyril and handed him a freshly fried ball. “It still needs to be dipped in the syrup but you can try it.”

He bit into it, smiling. “Amazing. You really could sell these.”

“I’d rather make them for you.”

He smiled, kissing her. The sweetness of the dessert flavored her tongue as he held her and pressed deeper into her mouth. 

She pulled away, laughing. “I’m going to burn it, you know.”

“I can wait until you’re done,” he teased. “I’m just happy you’re  feelin ’ better.”

“Me too.”

The two frisked around in the kitchen while they waited for the dough to fry. When all the batter had been used and all the fried dough dipped in syrup, Cyril swept  Lysithea off her feet and carried her bridal style to their bed. 

“You’re sticky,” he said. “ So I better clean you up.” He laid her on the bed and crawled over her, leaning on his elbows as he kissed her face.

She blushed. “Cy-cyril!”

“We’ve been married for almost five years and you’re still blushing?” he teased.

“Sometimes it feels like only yesterday we were on our honeymoon.”

“I thought for our anniversary we could go visit Shamir in Dagda.”

“I like the sound of that. Is she in Dagda right now?”

“Don’t worry. I already asked. She and Catherine would be happy  ta have us.”

“Good. I’ll look forward to it.”

“We can stop and say hi to Petra too. She’s about to have another baby.”

“Aw,”  Lysithea cooed. “We should get one of those.”

Cyril sat up. “Do  ya mean it?”

“I mean. We could try.”  Lysithea stammered. “And if nothing happens, then we can always find children who need a home. But I think I want our family to be bigger now.”

With a joyful cry, Cyril scooped  Lysithea into his arms and passionately kissed her. “ Wanna start now?”

Lysithea panted. “We could use the practice,” she teased. 

*

One month later,  Lysithea gasped, upset at finding blood on the sheets and her nightgown. She had Cyril fetch a healer. Scared,  Lysithea cleaned up the mess and sat on the dirty sheets, rocking back and forth. She thought she was better. 

The healer took one look at  Lysithea and her bloody clothes and sighed. “Dear, have you never had monthlies before?”

Shocked,  Lysithea replied, “Is that what this is? I thought...”

“We’ve been trying for children,” Cyril explained. “We thought this was something else.”

“Oh no. A miscarriage is much worse. But since I’m here, should I explain monthlies?”

“I know what they are,”  Lysithea stated. “I’ve just never had them.” It dawned on her. “Cyril! I know what happened!”

“Glad  ya figured it out. Because I’m still confused.”

“My Crest! I only have one now! So my body is acting like a body should!”

He nodded. “I get it. Well, thank you for coming. Now that we know it’s not serious, we’ll just take care of it the usual way.” Cyril paid the healer and sent them home. 

Lysithea laughed. “This means I might be able to have a child!” A cramp hit her and she doubled over, wincing. “And now I know why women hate periods.”

Wringing his hands, Cyril came over to her. “Anything I can do?”

“Could you bring me some willow bark tea? And chocolate?”

“Of course.” He kissed her and helped her settle in. “And tomorrow we’ll look for supplies to help with your bleeding.”

She scooted closer to him, snuggling her nose in his chest. “Thank you. I’m so glad I have you.”

*

Three months after their anniversary vacation,  Lysithea began to have a suspicion that something was different. She wrote to Marianne for advice. 

_ Dear Marianne, _

_ It has been so long since we have seen each other. Please come visit. I have some questions for you, things only a healer could answer. I would ask a local healer, but I need someone I trust. I don’t want Cyril to hear anything he isn’t supposed to, not until I know for certain. If you cannot come, please send someone I know who can. _

_ Your friend, _

_ Lysithea _

Naturally, with a letter like that, Marianne arrived within the fortnight, Hilda accompanying her as a bodyguard. Cyril was surprised at their arrival, but pleased.  Lysithea had been moody of late and he assumed she was missing the company of her fellow Deer.

When  Lysithea and Marianne were alone, the mage explained, “Cyril and I have been trying for a child and I think I may be pregnant. I am not certain, because ever since my monthlies have  started they have been irregular. Would you check? I’m sorry to bother you about this. But I know that you’d know my history and be able to treat me better if it was something else.”

“Of course,  Lysithea . You’re no bother. I’m happy to help out a friend.” Marianne ran her hands over  Lysithea’s abdomen and gasped. She looked up at her smaller friend and smiled. “You are most definitely with child. I think you are likely three months along?”

“That sounds about right,”  Lysithea said, blushing. “The last time I had my period was before we went to Dagda and I haven’t had it since.”

Marianne beamed, clasping her hands to her chest. “I’m glad fertility wasn’t an issue, then, if you’ve only been trying recently.”

Lysithea looked away, red. “Marianne,” she mumbled. 

“But you’re going to have to tell Linhardt and Hanneman, since they’re giving you that medicine for your Crest. I don’t know how it will affect a baby.”

Lysithea covered her mouth. “I didn’t even think about that! What if I hurt it?”

“I doubt it, but you should write to them and invite them here. They’ll want to observe you and make sure your pregnancy goes well. I’ll even stay here until they arrive, if you like.”

“Would you?”  Lysithea clasped Marianne’s hand. “I’m a little scared.”

“You’ve had a lot of changes recently. It’s okay to be frightened. Now go tell Cyril. I’m sure he’ll be delighted.”

Lysithea nodded eagerly and ran off, yelling for Cyril. 

Marianne chuckled and decided to go ahead and write to Linhardt for  Lysithea . After all, pregnancy brain was a real phenomenon and even  Lysithea would not be immune to its effects.

*

Lysithea grumbled at her restrictive bed rest. “I know I’m capable of doing things,” she told Cyril. “Why can’t I?”

“You know why,” he reprimanded. “You’ll overdo it and hurt yourself and the baby. I’m not  gonna let you ignore Linhardt’s instructions.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m bored, Cyril!”

He looked at her tenderly and gently rubbed her swollen belly. “It’s not for much longer. Soon we’ll have a healthy baby.”

“I hope so,” she whispered. “Some days I’m not so sure.” She looked into his eyes, tears welling up in hers. “What if our baby is affected by this Crest? What does that do to a child as it grows?”

“Our baby will be healthy and beautiful. With all of the healers we know, we would have learned by now if something was wrong.” Cyril kissed her shoulder. “My fear is that we will lose one or both of you when you go into labor.”

Lysithea held his hand. “Hanneman said there was a type of surgery done in  Almyra that could prevent something like that. It’s used in emergency situations where a baby is breech. He and Manuela are looking into it.”

“It would make me happier knowing you’d be okay.”

“What if I’m a terrible mother?”

“No parent is perfect,” Cyril said. “And we’ll do our best to own up to our mistakes.”

Lysithea leaned forward, placing her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Cyril rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. “And I love you,” he added, kissing her belly. 

*

Cyril and  Lysithea held hands, watching their two children run ahead of them towards the Monastery. It was the  fifteenth year celebration of the Unification of  Fodlan . All of their friends were attending, even the ones who had been travelling to other countries. For Cyril and  Lysithea , it was another milestone in their relationship. Neither of them had dreamed she would still be living. But with one Crest removed and the other diluted to a minor Crest,  Lysithea’s longevity was no longer something they worried about. Even if she only lived another fifteen years, it was enough. 

“Did you ever think you’d live to see the day?” Cyril asked her.

“Never. I didn’t think I’d live to see our  five year anniversary.”

“Here we are, almost fifteen years into our marriage. Who would’ve thought?”

Lysithea leaned against Cyril, basking in the joy of her family. “And I have two beautiful children. It’s nothing short of a miracle.”

He kissed the top of her head, rubbing his beard. “We do know someone with a connection to a literal goddess...”

She laughed, shoving his arm gently. “I doubt  Sothis had anything to do with it.”

Somewhere on the Monastery grounds  Byleth frowned. “What is it, love?” Claude asked. 

“I don’t know. But I feel offended. As if someone somewhere insulted my good name.”

Claude chuckled and pulled  Byleth into a kiss. “Your name? Or Sothis’s?”

“Hmm. I wonder.”  Byleth pondered the question until pulled aside by  Seteth . “How may I help you, Seteth?”

“Have you seen Manuela?”

“Not today, no.”

Seteth groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “She’ll be the death of me.”

“What has she done?”

“She was supposed to take  Flayn out last night for a girl’s night, but neither of them have returned.”

“I’m sure they’re both sleeping in her room, hungover,”  Byleth assured him.

“That does not bring me comfort.”  Seteth stalked off, continuing his search.

Claude chuckled. “Should I tell him that I saw  Flayn flirting with Ferdinand an hour ago? And that I saw Manuela puking in the infirmary from her hangover?”

“He’ll figure it out.”  Byleth poked Claude’s side. “And don’t tell him about  Flayn’s flirting. It was one-sided.”

“How do you know?”

“Ferdinand’s engaged to someone else.”

“Ah. How do you know these things before I do?”

“Who do you think pushed Cyril and  Lysithea together?”  Byleth asked, nodding at the couple who had entered with their children. “Or Petra and Ashe? And Leonie certainly wasn’t going to figure out who she wanted to be with until I gave her some advice.”

“And here I thought I was the romantic,” Claude teased. 

Byleth didn’t respond, instead greeting Cyril and his children. 

“Claude,”  Lysithea said, bowing. 

“Excuse me, it’s actually Your Imperial Majesty,” Claude replied, crossing his arms. 

“All right, Mr. Leader Man,”  Lysithea replied, rolling her eyes.

“Honestly,  Lysithea , I’m glad you could make it.” There was a weight to his words that lent it a double meaning. 

She smiled sincerely at him and said, “Me too.”

*

"...it is said that, for however long it lasted, they were happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This was a long one. But I did it! Yay. Sorry it's rough around the edges in some places. I hope it met your expectations.


End file.
